


burning out my sins until there's nothing but dust

by brandywine421



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Angst, F/M, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-12
Updated: 2013-05-12
Packaged: 2017-12-11 15:46:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/800409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brandywine421/pseuds/brandywine421
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I need this," Steve said, holding at attention.  "I'm not a robot, I may have been built inside a lab, but I'm still a man.  I need something outside of war if I'm going to be able to keep doing this without putting a gun in my mouth."</p><p>Fury's jaw twitched but he didn't look away.  "Is this about The Winter Soldier?"</p><p>"Sir, I don't care about The Winter Soldier.  I cared about James Buchanan Barnes and he's dead."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for: Mild spoilers for IM3. Mentions of PTSD, off-screen violence. Adult language.
> 
> Author's note: This started out as an exercise in melodrama. Angst, bromance, fluff, betrayal, ghosts, lies; all that stuff. 
> 
> It's set several years in the future after all kinds of shit has gone down. Friends, sanity and partners are lost and found as they try to settle.
> 
> A steady playlist of angsty emo contributed greatly to the crack, thus encouraging the soapopera-ey tone I was going for.

 

  
_It's a campaign of distraction_  
 _and revisionist history, oh_

"I need this," Steve said, holding at attention. "I'm not a robot, I may have been built inside a lab, but I'm still a man. I need something outside of war if I'm going to be able to keep doing this without putting a gun in my mouth."

Fury's jaw twitched but he didn't look away. "Is this about The Winter Soldier?"

"Sir, I don't care about The Winter Soldier. I cared about James Buchanan Barnes and he's dead."

Fury finally looked away. "You'll come if we need you. If you get a call..."

"I give you my word," Steve said.

"Fury, you can't be considering this - " Natasha said, breaking her long silence from the corner.

Steve wasn't surprised she was against him, but it had been a while since he considered the Black Widow a friend.

Fury's sharp glare at her was a surprise. He unlocked a drawer on his desk and pulled out a thick envelope. "He's served this country for over 70 years, if anyone deserves an honorable discharge, it's Rogers. I assume you don't want fanfare?" he directed at Steve.

"You assume correctly, sir," Steve said, holding his breath.

He felt like he'd been holding his breath his whole life.

Fury signed on multiple pages and then held out the pen for Steve. He sat down to read through everything. Fury started pulling more things out of his drawer.

"Sir," Natasha said.

"Romanov, you are dismissed," Fury said shortly.

"Are you even going to talk to your team? Your friends?" Natasha fired at Steve instead for leaving.

Steve leveled a cool gaze at her. "I already have." He ignored her blanched face and returned to the papers, signing each line in perfect script.

Pepper had bartered the deal with Fury weeks ago, before Steve had made up his mind. Tony told her everything, even now, and she had taken the wheel behind both their backs to have everything ready.

"Here are your pension details," Fury said passing him an envelope. Then he laid out a series of small boxes.

"I don't want those. Put them in a museum or something. Captain America earned those medals and I'm Steve Rogers now," he said, passing him the papers.

"I'll hold on to them for now," Fury said after a beat. "Will you be taking the shield with you?"

"I'll need to be combat ready when I'm called in to assist," Steve replied. Fury didn't seem surprised. The man was a good ally to have. He gathered up his copies of the papers and stood up in unison with Fury.

"Captain Rogers. It has been an honor to serve with you," Fury said, giving him a firm salute that Steve returned with genuine respect.

+++++++++++++

_"I think I have a brother. Do I have a brother?"_

_"No."_

_"Are you sure? Shrimpy little guy, always getting his ass kicked. He always patched me up after my Dad...I'm sure I have a brother."_

 +++++++++++++

_Well if we take all these things_  
 _and we bury them fast_  
 _And we'll pray that they turn into seeds,_  
 _to roots and then grass_  
 _It'd be all right, it's all right,_  
 _it'd be easier that way._

He had a vague idea of what he wanted to do but he'd promised a vacation first with Tony and Bruce.

They'd had their own personal adventures (tragedies) and threats (battles) over the years, between the assembling and the passing reunions but Steve considered them his closest friends. He stayed at Tony's and Bruce checked in on Wednesdays no matter where he was.

They were lounging on Tony's private beach with goblets of Asgardian mead and Banner strength marijuana cigars. Steve was grateful to his smart friends for conquering the Serum's pharmaceutical issues.

"Did you talk to her before you flew down?" Bruce asked when Tony had dozed off, his scarred and newly tattooed chest openly bare. (Progress.)

"Nothing left to say."

"What about Barnes?" Bruce asked.

"Bucky's gone. Nat will take care of Yasha."

"And you're okay with it? I know you say you are but I need to see your face when you say it," Bruce said.

Steve sighed, scanning the horizon. Beautiful.

"I can't look at him anymore. I can't look at the thing wearing his face. I want to hold onto the Bucky I knew then. Yasha is not and will never be Bucky. I need to deal with that, I need to mourn him."

Bruce nodded.

"I'm tired. I'm so tired," Steve admitted. "I've been fighting to hold on to things and it's time to let go."

"Tony will be glad to have you around more," Bruce said. "Me, too."

Steve smiled. "I haven't thought about what I'd do after. Not since the 40's. It's a new world."

"What about your art?" Bruce asked.

"My doodles have taken a strange turn lately."

"He's ghostwriting children books. Shh, it's a secret," Tony muttered, shifting in sleep.

Steve laughed and Bruce joined in.

"Ridiculous. Puppies and kittens and rainbows. _Idiot_ ," Tony murmured fondly.

"It's not about puppies and kittens. It's about friendship and loss and hope," Steve said.

"I need to read that," Bruce smiled.

"Check your PO box sometimes, only two have been released but there's a series," Steve admitted.

"That's great, Steve."

"I'm still deciding on the rest. I'm looking at retiring somewhere in the country. Maybe Pennsylvania. Or Illinois. I'm avoiding snowy areas. I want a lake nearby that I can swim in, minimal neighbors, maybe a horse."

"Picket fence? You don't think that's going to drive you batty?" Bruce asked.

Steve smiled. "You mean more than I already am? I'm hoping for a lot of company. My house can be a decompression stop for my friends and their friends - but no violence, no breaking of the zen on my property."

Bruce laughed with full force and Tony sat up, knocking over his drink.

"He hasn't heard this idea yet. Could you imagine him on a horse?" Steve asked.

"I can't imagine either of you 'city boys' on a horse. Do you even like horses?" Bruce asked.

"I like them well enough. I want a dog, maybe."

"Start with the dog, horses are high maintenance. And tall. What are we talking about?" Tony asked.

  
_The love you had but couldn't name,_  
 _The past that we were stuck between_  
 _Beside myself I stopped to think_  
 _Lord, what have I done?_

"I made the wrong call," she said, closing and locking the door to his hotel room.

"Fuck, Nat, you're not allowed to do this now," Clint said.

"Yasha was the Red Room's creation, he wasn't brought up there - he was his own man before he was Yasha.," Natasha said.

"I know that. Everyone knows that except the shrinks you convinced otherwise," Clint said, zipping up his bag. He'd earned this vacation and Natasha's freeze out had broken a lot of the loyalty tethers he had to her.

"I thought I could...make Yasha real. Bring him back."

"Why are you telling me this?" Clint asked. Natasha had pulled rank no one had known she had when they brought in The Winter Soldier. She had spent over a year with Steve tracking him down, supporting Cap on the field and in his bed. They worked seamlessly together and no one, except maybe Tony, knew they were involved.

It was only when the Soldier was locked up at SHIELD that The Black Widow made her appearance. She blew Steve off like a flick of lint and focused her full attention on deprogramming her assassin true love. Clint hadn't found out about any of that until their first Avengers' emergency afterward when Pepper broke Natasha's nose when she walked into the briefing room.

Steve never mentioned it openly, Clint had to pick it out of Bruce. It was the first time he'd ever regretted being known as Natasha's partner. Steve didn't treat her differently in public, but he wouldn't respond to her if she called him anything other than 'Captain'. In his passive-aggressive way, he made it clear she was a teammate, not a friend. And Natasha had shut all her doors, snapped all her connections and bound herself to Yasha.

"I thought I could bring him back," Natasha repeated.

"There was nothing to bring back. Again, why are you telling me shit I already know?"

"I hurt Steve. I thought...true love is supposed to cancel out everything else but Yasha isn't real. I don't know if he was ever real. False memory, hell, wishful thinking, a teenager's crush," Natasha said, her voice breaking.

Clint realized that he'd never seen Natasha like this. If it was a buried trigger or a mental breakdown, he owed her his help regardless of his confused opinion of her.

"When I wake up from the nightmares, I don't see Yasha, I see Steve - the way he was when I told him about Yasha. When I told him it was all a lie - but Yasha was the lie and Steve was..."

"Nothing," Clint finished. "You can't take it back, Nat."

She reached out and grabbed his wrists tightly and looking at him with wild eyes. "I have to. Because Yasha's fading and Bucky - he's surfacing and he's - I need Steve, I need him to tell me what to do."

"You told us Bucky was gone. Bucky's gone, Nat," Clint said, searching her face.

"I lied. God help me," Natasha whispered, releasing him and burying her face in her hands. "I don't know what I'm doing. I love them both and I don't get to have either...I lost them both..."

He put his hands on her slumped shoulders. "You lied to a lot of people. You lied to me. It's going to take more than a few tears to convince us that you're not conning us into your web again."

"It wasn't a con. My vision tunneled - I couldn't think about anything but getting Yasha back," Natasha said. "It didn't feel like programming...but I haven't been triggered in so long, but it's all wrong, everything's wrong."

Clint sighed and put his arms around her.

"Will you help me?" she whispered.

"We'll talk it through. But if you want to talk to Cap, you gotta go through Tony. He's the gatekeeper," Clint said.

"I think I need to talk it through first. I need to know what's real," Natasha murmured, turning around so he could hold her against him.

His vacation could wait because fixing his broken faux-family meant more than anything else to him.

  
_I got my lion heart and electric flowing through my brain_  
 _Shocking waves make me feel I can float_  
 _Surely I'm'ma do what I want, ain’t got no one to blame_  
 _I can’t explain this sudden peace in my walk_

"I'm worried about you in this place. What if there are coyotes hungry for man-flesh?" Tony asked, his bare feet in Steve's lap where he'd sprawled across the wood dock. It was a Stark original, like most of Steve's new furniture and housewares. There was a retractable canopy and mosquito netting, plus a full fridge (wet bar), lighting, excellent sound and seating. There was a separate dock (marina) for the boats but this one was for relaxing.

"Hopefully I can handle a coyote," Steve said, thumping the sole of his foot.

"The quiet is going to drive you mad. Crickets and toads and probably snakes - seriously - why not retire in Malibu?" Tony asked.

"The only time I've known quiet was in the ice," Steve said. "I want to see who I am in the quiet when I can process rational thought."

Tony sighed and Steve traced a line up his leg over his jeans. "Don't change the subject."

"I'll still see you. All you have to do is call," Steve said.

"I'm going to have to suffer here without take-out," Tony replied, shifting on the mat to lie beside him. "Because you want to find God in the middle of nowhere. I mean, a hike in Tibet I could understand, Bruce could trek with you, but this place is like a horror movie set."

"You made it like a sci-fi movie when you wired JARVIS into my house."

"Hey, I need him for my workshop," Tony protested.

"Your workshop in my house," Steve teased, kissing his neck. Tony leaned his head to the side to bare his skin.

"I'm not letting you slip through my fingers. I've got you. We just have to keep holding on," Tony said softly, threading their fingers together.

When he woke in the night with Bucky's name on his lips and his fingers tingling with the loss of his hold - he would find Tony's grip tight around his fingers. (And when Tony clutched at his chest in the middle of a nightmare - reaching for the gaping hole where the arc reactor that kept him alive should be - Steve's hand would be splayed across the scar tissue, plotting the heartbeat against his palm.)

"I'm two hours from your place by car and you already have three suits in the wine cellar," Steve said, holding up a hand to keep him from denying it. "I don't even need a wine cellar," he added.

"Everyone needs a wine cellar," Tony said. He studied Steve's face with dark eyes. "Are you really going to be okay here? I can't be here all the time."

"I'm fine, Tony. You've already made sure I have everything I need and JARVIS the Third is going to be spying on me for you so it's not like we'll really be apart," Steve said. He kissed him softly and made sure Tony could see he was being true. "We both have our own ways to unwind. AC/DC and welding lift your spirits and a quiet room and a pencil keeps me sane. You have a business to run, genius to work on and all that. I have a raw edge that I need to buff out without facing down my sins every time I look out the window or go to work." He kissed him again. "I need you to do this with me, but sometimes that means I don't need you to hold my hand."

Tony nodded. "I'm going to update this waterproof futon with a bed, JARVIS the Third, make a note of it."

"Of course, Sir," the Australian AI replied.

+++++++++++++++

_"I think his name was Roger. No. Rogers was the guy I served with. Yeah, great guy, I would follow him into hell. But my brother, he was a little guy. Do I have a brother?"_

_"No."_

_"But..."_

_"You had a best friend. You were as close as brothers."_

_"What was his name?"_

_"You tell me."_

+++++++++++++++

  
_But I love the way you’d roll_  
 _excuses off the tip of your tongue_  
 _as I slowly fall apart (slowly, quietly, slowly)_  
 _fall apart_

"Steve's with Tony now. You know that, right?"

She nodded. "It's not real."

Clint snorted. "Tony treats him better than you ever did. Guys are soulmates. Like you and Yasha."

"He's not Yasha," Natasha whispered. "God, Yasha wasn't real - "

"Natasha," Clint said sharply. He couldn't deny that she was genuinely mind-fucked over this. Whether it was her heart or her programming that had finally broken, she was falling to pieces.

She shuddered and steadied herself. Her eyes didn't clear.

The door opened and Maria stepped in, frowning at the two of them in her office.

She knew he was supposed to be on a plane right now but she didn't glare at him. She was fully focused on Natasha.

Clint hadn't told her the betrayal part of the situation but he knew she knew. They shared a lot of things but kept their friend's secrets without apologies. Maria would back Fury to her dying breath and Clint would walk into fire for the Avengers. Their loyalties hadn't broken their link yet but he trusted that she would trust his judgement in this situation.

Fury trusted Natasha, but her fixation on The Winter Soldier had broken his trust and he had been twisted over it since. Maria would give Natasha an objective look and Clint trusted her to tell him the truth.

"Natasha's been soul-searching," Clint said evenly.

"Yasha's not real. They're peeling him raw and it's - it's Bucky, it's not Yasha because Yasha's not real," Natasha said, looking at Maria with dull, desperate eyes. "I'm chasing a memory that I never had."

Maria's gaze flicked to Clint.

"I think the shrinks are peeling her raw, too. This Natasha is not the one that dropkicked the phlebotomist yesterday," Clint said.

"I hurt Steve, and Bucky needs him and I - if Yasha's not real then Bucky needs Steve," Natasha said. "He's going backwards, I'm going backwards, but Yasha has something, someone to find and there's - I have nothing left to find."

Clint pushed his hand in her hair and she leaned her head against his palm, shuddering.

"Shit. Have you called Stark yet?" Maria hissed.

"Wanted you to give me your opinion," Clint said.

"I'll back you up and update Fury. Take care of her."

  
_I'll do what I got to,_  
 _the truth is you could slit my throat_  
 _And with my one last gasping breath_  
 _I'd apologize for bleeding on your shirt_

"Tony, you got Steve with you?" Clint said into the screen. He didn't recognize the penthouse or the bloody artwork stacked against the wall.

"No, but Steve's got me with him. He's having a moment of inspiration," Tony said, swiveling the camera to the side so Clint could see Steve scrawling out battlefields with sharp brushstrokes. while a robot followed his moves eagerly with a tiny mop. "What's on your mind, manchild? I thought you were coming up for the weekend."

"Change of plans. Lots of changes. Natasha's programming is breaking. The whole single-minded obsession with Yasha has shifted and she's regressed to a scared little girl," Clint said, shifting his own camera to show Natasha's bundled form on the bed behind him. "Seems the Red Room liked to bury their claws deep. The shrinks say that the Soviets gave all their young ones their first taste of human emotion, like love, to make sure that those feelings can be manipulated into motivation. I don't understand it all, but she's genuinely messed up."

Tony hummed but his eyes were dark with thought.

"That's not all." Clint lowered his voice and leaned close. "Yasha's gone. They've broken past him and Bucky Barnes is in the building."

"Don't joke about that," Tony said.

Clint shook his head. "I'm not. I went down after I got her to sleep and he was telling Fury a story about a stickball game with a table leg and a tomato."

"It was an apple," Steve said from across the room without pausing in his stroke.

"He remembers you visited him. He thinks SHIELD's keeping you away. Cap, what do you want to do?" Clint asked.

Steve's hand hesitated but he didn't say anything. He didn't turn around.

"It's completely your call," Clint said.

"Shut up, Barton and let him think," Tony said quietly.

"I'm going to paint," Steve said. "They can stay in the east guest house."

Clint didn't expect that offer. Steve's little island retreat in the middle of a giant private lake that Stark had (secretly) bought for him was a safe zone. It was Steve's attempt at a home and bringing two spiraling Russian assassins ashore would taint his haven.

" _Hey_ ," Tony said sharply. Steve turned to him with clouded eyes. "Tell me."

"It'll be fine. Clint won't bring them if he doesn't think they're on the up and up," Steve said, nodding at the computer even if he was too far to meet his eyes. "I'll deal with it as it comes."

"Are you positive?" Clint asked. Steve turned back to the painting and Clint could see his body adjust to take a full breath before he raised the brush again.

"We trust you," Tony answered instead. "Make sure they're not volatile, we're doing the pacifist thing off the clock, remember?"

"No argument from me, I'm still coming for a vacation even if I have unexpected guests to babysit now," Clint said.

  
_Bet you want to see me weak_  
 _Not sort of my thing you see_  
 _I’m too damn cool, my mojo too dope_  
 _It’s the same old thing getting lost day ‘n’ nite,_  
 _young and lost in the pain_

Tony settled on the front porch with Bruce who hadn't bothered to put his bag away before sitting down to take in the scene.

"When he said he wanted to get away, he wasn't lying. It's a hike to get supplies, what, boat to car and then an hour to civilization. Impressive," Bruce said. "Is it working?"

"Not like I thought it would," Tony replied.

Bruce raised an eyebrow.

"That sounded worse than I meant. He's okay. He's talking more about the things he doesn't talk about," Tony said.

"The war or before?" Bruce asked.

"The ice. He paints his dreams from the ice," Tony said evenly even if the idea chilled him to the bone. "Starvation and war and blind hate. Pain in technicolor on a canvas. But it's helping, I think. Maybe. He's getting it out the only way he can but I haven't been able to leave him alone yet."

"Shit, Tones, where the hell did that come from? He dreamed like that in the ice? 70 years?" Bruce whispered.

"I think he needs this place to put himself back together, I don't think it has to do with Bucky or Natasha. I think he's finally ready to try and fix himself. We all have our epiphanies in different ways and Cap held his cool until he could work a way out following protocol, unlike my own personal meltdown spread across the tabloids," Tony said.

"Natasha and Yasha are coming here, though. With his invitation," Bruce said.

"He's still Steve Rogers, he's not going to leave them hanging if there's even the slimmest chance they're back to themselves. And Yasha's not coming. Word is that we're getting Bucky Barnes instead. Confirmed it with Clint and Hill. And Fury. Natasha's the loose cannon."

"Jesus. How does Steve want to handle it?" Bruce asked.

"He just keeps saying he's going to paint," Tony sighed. "He wants to know when they get here."

"And the two of you are good?" Bruce asked after a thoughtful beat.

"Yeah. I don't think this is right, I fucking know it's right. We've had our false starts but this is right," Tony said. "When I was young, I just wanted someone to start me up, that flood of power and joy but only for a night. And Pepper made me hum, the engine running clean and steady. But Steve...Steve makes me purr, like I'm finally alive, not a machine trying to revive, but a man with a real heart."

"You earned it, Tony. You both deserve it," Bruce said.

"We're trying to find a handhold on the future but we've got to climb out of the past first. And if we can pull our friends out with us, we're going to give it our best shot," Tony said.

  
_Boom went his head away_  
 _And boom went Valerie_  
 _What the hell was it that the president said?_  
 _Give him a beautiful parade instead_  
 _Left, right, left_

"So, I hear you're the guy that got me out of that box."

Clint shook his head. "A lot of people had a part in that. If it were up to me, we would have had you back to Bucky months ago."

Bucky nodded, wrapping his metal fingers around the railing on the boat. "I know Natalia burned a lot of bridges. She put all her bets on one horse, never a good idea unless you're sure it's going to win. I feel guilty for a lot of things, but it's like I have another kill on my record for Yasha in her eyes."

"She convinced Steve that Yasha was all that was left," Clint said. "You know he would have never left if he'd known you'd resurface."

"I was there, somewhere. I know what Yasha said to him," Bucky replied. "But I think he'll understand. I need him to understand. He'll forgive me, he always does, but I need him to do more than that."

"Because you're brothers?" Clint asked after a moment.

Bucky shrugged. "Yeah."

"You grew up together. Nat grew up with Yasha. You're the linchpin in her past," Clint said.

Bucky nodded. "I know. We can put ourselves together, but that doesn't mean we heal."

"She was okay before. Years," Clint said.

"Our brains don't work the same anymore," Bucky said. "It's like when you break something too many times, the pieces don't fit the same way when you put it back together. There are gaps, weaknesses in the cracks. There's only so many times we can be remade. But I'm damned well going to try. I've been asleep too long, I can't waste this chance."

Clint nodded.

"I'm not abandoning Natalia," Bucky said quietly.

The island finally came into view and he lowered the throttle so they could take in the expanse of trees and the bright grass spread over the landscape with spatters of flowers and wild shrubs. There were a few shiny metal sculptures scattered across the grass that Clint recognized as Tony's work and he smiled at the clusters of birds taking advantage of the water and feeding stations built into the shapes. He was impressed at the lack of birdshit but he knew Tony would have figured out a way to keep his toys shiny.

"Are you sure this is Steve's place?" Bucky asked hesitantly.

"Tony had a hand in it. Steve wanted it for the quiet but Tony has a way of going overboard. He'd do anything to make Steve happy," Clint said.

"He better be as good as you say," Bucky said. "Jesus wouldn't be good enough for Steve in my book."

"Except you?" Clint asked.

Bucky glared at him. "Brothers, not lovers, Asshole."

Clint didn't hide his surprise.

"I love him like burning, man, but not because I want to fuck him. He's the only family I have, he's always been my family. Finding out he was dead, that's what put Bucky down for the count, that's when I stopped fighting the mind control. There was nothing left of me if he wasn't there, too," Bucky said. "I gave up. He followed me to war, he dragged me out of hell and I got him killed. I needed to die, too."

"Then why didn't you snap out of it when you saw him?" Clint asked.

Bucky tapped his head. "Doesn't work like that. Too many other things in here. Yasha took over and I let him. It wasn't the first time I'd seen Steve. They showed me killing him over and over in the beginning. It was part of every wake up call, he was always there, a hole in his head or his guts spilling out in my hands. They knew that was the only way to keep me from fighting for consciousness."

"Jesus," Clint hissed.

"They used Yasha to do the same thing to Natalia. Love, no matter what kind, is a helluva motivation," Bucky said.

"You think we'll get her back?" Clint asked.

"Of course," Bucky said. "She has enough good here in the present to bring her out of the fear of the past. She'll fight for it, too. She came to you, didn't she?"

"We're not together," Clint said. They had found a rhythm without ever falling into bed together.

"Brothers, not lovers," Bucky shrugged.

  
_Or if the sky opened up and started pouring rain_  
 _Like he knew it was time_  
 _to start things over again_  
 _It'd be all right, it's all right,_  
 _it'd be easier that way._

Bruce greeted Clint and their guests at the dock with a genuine smile. It would be nice to have the gang back together. There was hope now that it could happen, like a scene out of Steve's fluffy book series.

He'd isolated himself for so long that he hadn't realized how much the Avengers meant to him until they'd imploded one by one. Tony's demons would follow him forever and Steve had never let his loose and they'd eaten him alive. Natasha's compass lost its north and Clint had been left without a safety net.

They all needed this chance, hadn't they fucking earned it? Wasn't it time they got something back for themselves?

Clint patted him on the back with a bright grin. "It's damned good to see you."

"Likewise." He turned to the stranger with the metal arm and reached out his hand. "Bruce Banner, you must be Yasha."

The man shook his hand with metal fingers, unashamed. "Actually, it's Bucky. I've been doing some cleanup in my brainspace."

Natasha was hesitant and small beside him and avoided his eyes.

He hadn't expected her to look so fragile but he put his arms around her automatically. "Nice to see you, 'Tasha."

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"I know. Shit happens," he added.

She snorted softly. "You sound like Tony."

"Speaking of, where's the welcoming committee?" Clint asked.

"Steve managed to get paint, bright yellow paint, on the carpet and the housekeepers, sort of, swarmed on them and there was a situation."

"A situation?" Bucky frowned.

"A paint-fight situation. So JARVIS is hosting negotiations and robot-guided cleanup in the big house and they're meeting us in your guest house," Bruce said.

"Nice, they didn't piss off the cooks, did they?" Clint asked.

"The housekeepers are robots, the cooks don't start working until later. I'll have to show you the video of the battle, those robots are fierce," Bruce grinned. "Come on, let's get this reunion going."

He noted that Bucky put his arm around Natasha to follow him but Clint was the one that took her hand.

Interesting.

There was an easy swagger in Bucky's walk and he took in the scene with curiosity instead of suspicion.

If anything would heal Steve Rogers, it would be this man.

  
_Just think of this and me_  
 _as just a few of the many things_  
 _to lie around_  
 _to clutter up your shelves_

Bucky reached out and put his fingers on Steve's jaw, probing the curves of his face and down his neck. Steve watched him with dull eyes, flinching with soft shudders as Bucky performed his research. His fingers settled on the pulse point of his neck and pressed. Steve raised his hand and put it against Bucky's chest over his heart.

Tony felt like time had stopped. Everyone held their breath.

"It was worth it, I don't take any of it back. You made it, you _fucking_ made it," Bucky whispered.

" _We_ made it. We both made it," Steve said.

Bucky threw his arms around Steve and squeezed him until he squeaked. And smiled.

Tony had never seen him smile like that. Natasha turned her face into Clint's shoulder.

"I missed the hell out of you, brother," Bucky said, pulling back and shoving him lightly as he wiped his face. "Goddamn."

"There are ladies present," Steve said, putting his hand on his shoulder and holding him still so he could scan him. "Bucky."

"It's me. I know it wasn't me before but it's me. You're alive and that - I can come back for that. I can't leave you alone for too long or you get into trouble," Bucky said with a hoarse laugh. He nodded at Natasha. "Taking my girl, that's cold, man."

Steve glanced over at her and back to Bucky, trying to figure out what was the right response. "I didn't exactly know she was yours at the time."

"More Yasha's than mine, but I think I got a pretty good shot," Bucky said.

Tony caught on when Natasha glanced up with a surprised look.

"Timing's never been one of our strong points," Steve said thoughtfully.

"Want to call a do-over?" Bucky asked.

Tony could see the bruise where Bucky had pressed his fingers to Steve's neck.

"Absolutely," Steve said. "Always."

Bucky smiled and relaxed into a lazy pose against the wall. "Since we have an audience, I'll hold off on my questions, but this is something that can't wait - who's getting into your pants?"

Steve flushed with annoyance, not embarrassment and Tony smiled. "Bucky."

"Seriously, you know I have to clear anyone that comes near your privates," Bucky said. His eyes skimmed the room and he pointed a metal finger at Tony. "You, you're quiet."

He got to his feet and held out his hand. "Tony Stark."

Bucky glanced at Steve. "All your friends keep reaching for my fake arm, I can't decide if I should be impressed or suspicious."

"Both, probably," Steve smiled.

"I'm going to make sure you treat him right," Bucky said.

"Ditto," Tony said.

  
_Nimrod Bodfish have you any wool_  
 _Get me another body bag the body bag’s full_  
 _My face was scorched, scorched_  
 _I miss my home I miss my porch, porch_  
 _Left, right, left_

"I got permission to show you guys his new stuff," Tony said, standing outside of Steve's studio. He'd made sure it had tons of natural light and as many windows as was structurally sound. But he'd blanketed the room in canvases within a week and the sun cast sharp swatches of shadow and light through the room giving it a fractured feeling during the sunniest days.

"Why do you seem freaked about it?" Clint asked.

"I'm freaked he gave permission because, well. They're his ice dreams," Tony said.

"Ice dreams?" Natasha asked, speaking for the the first time in a steady voice.

Tony nodded. "He says, confessed really, that he dreamed in the ice. He was in cryo, but his brain still worked, he dreamed, he didn't wake up, he just. Dreamed."

"Damn," Clint hissed.

"There's something else, that maybe he doesn't realize yet, but that I need to show you," Tony said, sucking in a breath and opening the door.

The canvases had been arranged like he'd asked, leaning against the wall in a swatchwork of horrors and memories that belonged to more than one man. The cleaning bots scurried to their chargers like they'd been busted by the cops but Tony was glad they were obedient for once.

"He started with simple things, and I didn't really get that they were his dreams from under the ice," Tony said, motioning to the smallest of paintings. The World Trade Center burning. A family huddled on the roof of their home after Katrina. Blood spattered on a Kent State sweatshirt.

"But then there was this," Tony said, avoiding a full on look at the painting.

A broken boy with green-laced bruises and twisted limbs and brown eyes glowing red and gold as his body arched in pain under a wrinkled hand. The ring on his finger was lined with rubies like Maria Stark's and the watch was Obadiah's. The man's face was Howard Stark's and the boy was Tony. It was a snapshot of Tony's worst moments, his darkest fears. "Still, I thought it might be some kind of spillover."

"That's me," Bruce said, pointing to the next painting. The scientist with bright glowing green eyes staring in horror at broken test tubes and green goo that dripped in swirls of red to a pool of blood flooding the floor.

Natasha was frozen a few feet away, her head tilted to the side. A blonde woman with a torn dress stood over a corpse holding a heart in her dripping fingers while they both had gaping holes in their chests. "Yuri was my first kill."

"It's the details. Like the calendar, down to the time on the clock - " Bruce said.

"Ice dreams," Tony said. "That's why this is so strange. Those battle scenes, the bloodiest ones, I think they're Bucky's."

Clint had diverted himself from the grotesque circus one Tony had pinned on him and stopped in front of a shadowed warehouse filled with sparking guns and splashes of blood. "This one's Coulson's. Beirut." He motioned to the far corner and the shadow of a man with two dark eyes. "Fury still had two eyes, as far as the story goes."

"He dreamed of us," Natasha said softly.

"Steve has to know these aren't his memories," Bruce said.

"I think on some level he does, but it took a lot of patience to get him to admit these were 'ice dreams'," Tony said. "That's why it surprised me when he gave me permission to show them."

"This is, kind of, big," Clint sighed.

"He carries our sins even though we didn't ask him to," Natasha whispered. "Even though he didn't know he was doing it."

"He says he just needs to get it out of his system. JARVIS the Third's got him on the same alert system he uses for me in the workshop," Tony said. He took a chance and squeezed her shoulder. "We all have our own ways of letting our ghosts go."

"I thought he came up here to write more of his books," Bruce said.

"He takes fluff breaks for snacks," Tony said.

"Are you taking care of him?" Natasha asked suddenly.

Tony held her gaze. "Yes."

She nodded and her eyes seem to lose a layer of clouds.

"It's a good thing you're all here. It's time we focus on ourselves instead of mission plans and the end of the world," Tony said.

"Don't jinx us, Tony," Bruce said.

"Sir, the meal has been arranged on the roof level per your request," JARVIS the Third announced.

"I still can't believe you convinced him to let you bring JARVIS here," Clint laughed. "But we can talk about that over this very welcome meal he mentioned."

"There's so much I don't understand," Natasha said, hesitating in the studio.

"You're not alone in that," Tony said, taking her elbow. "Let's go see what we can learn."

  
_Now I could make this obvious,_  
 _and you,_  
 _you could deny me all in one breath_  
 _you could shrug me off_

Bucky ticked off Steve's mannerisms, trying to confirm that he was the same Steve. Bucky had changed, he'd been reshaped so many times that he would never fit into his skin the same way but Steve seemed to have finally grown into himself.

He smiled and laughed openly and there was no sign of fear in his eyes, no doubt or self-consciousness.

Steve kept Tony Stark in his eyeline at all times, giving him soft touches as they circled each other's orbit, steadying each other with the reminder they were still there.

It made Bucky twist inside that Steve had found his match without being there to see it. He'd been so clumsy and awkward that Bucky wished he could have seen their courtship for himself.

"Weird, right?" Tony asked, collapsing on the cushion beside him. "That I could snag a guy like Steve."

"You're just his sugar daddy, Stark," Bucky said, testing.

Tony waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"How _did_ you snag him?" Bucky asked, curious.

Tony's face relaxed and his eyes went distant. "Not really sure, it was a slow burn looking back at it. I was having an existential crisis of my own and he was there for me, solid as a rock. I gave him shit and he gave me shit right back. When his own world went to hell, he let me be there for him. Steve doesn't throw his trust around like that. You taught him well. He held himself together until Yasha came into the picture.  It was like you died all over again."

"I know.  My biggest regret, and I have plenty of 'em, is that he had to watch me fall," Bucky said.  "I saw that face in my dreams, even as Yasha, when I didn't know who he was.  I failed him."

"He thinks he failed you.  If you're back, if you're really here, Bucky, it's a goddamn miracle," Tony said.

"He's the miracle. It's a lot easier for me to see him happy than miserable.  Gives me hope that he's really okay.  Safe," Bucky said.

"We do our best.  It's time for you to be safe, too," Tony said.

"Natalia's pretty messed up, you guys going to do your best for her, too?" Bucky asked.

"If she'll let us," Tony said. "She shut us out, she shut Steve down hard, so the estrangement was not all on our part.  She played Steve like a drum trying to get Yasha back."

"And most of it wasn't real.  She has memories that didn't happen to either of us, manipulated realities," Bucky said. "But I still feel like I owe her.  I wasn't present for Yasha, but I have his memories.  I remember everything.  Yasha wanted to protect her and I need to keep his promises when I can.  I remember that he loved her."

Tony nodded and patted his arm. "Tell us what you need, Bucky. Anything, for either of you."

Steve stepped over and gave Tony's shoulder a squeeze and raised an eyebrow at Bucky. "You guys are too quiet."

"I figured I'd start my questions in public to lure him into a false sense of security," Bucky smiled.

"What he said," Tony replied.

Steve sat down beside Bucky and lowered his voice. "What's up with Natasha?"

"Natalia's coming down from a mission. She was triggered by The Winter Soldier to get him out at all costs. Yasha was supposed to make the next call to extract them but, well, Yasha's not real and Natalia was not herself. She's lost her map," Bucky said. "She'll be all right, but not right away."

"The last time I saw you, you refused to speak English and now, it's _you_ , and you sound like you've been to a seminar instead of living through hell."

"Been looking at life through someone else's eyes, now I'm on the outside looking in. Now that I've got the wheel again, I need to know how my engine runs," Bucky said.

"You suck at examples," Steve laughed.

And Bucky would walk through fire all over again to hear that sound.

  
_Hey lush, have fun_  
 _it's the weekend_

"Damn, Tony," Steve said when the house was silent and everyone had retired to bed after watching the sunrise.

"I know, buddy, it's been a long night," Tony yawned.

Steve's hands were hot around his arms and Tony turned without protest, raising his mouth for a kiss.

"Thank you for doing this with me. You don't know how much it means to have you here," Steve said.

"I never miss a party, babe," Tony smiled, kissing the annoyed crinkle of his mouth. He would never deny that he used Steve to fill the space alcohol used to. When he lost his courage or his snark, he could catch Steve's warm eyes or steady hand and find his footing. "Bucky seems like a solid guy, what do you think?"

"I think he's...Bucky. I'm tired of thinking, I'd rather make out with you," Steve said, gently fisting a hand into his hair and pushing their mouths together.

"I'm not arguing with you - ever - if you keep coming up with such great ideas," Tony said.

In the first few weeks of their relationship when the sex was more of an emotional release, Tony had felt his age, hobbling around during Steve's nights as Captain.  Six months later, Tony noticed his first scars fading into smooth flesh.  His lungs opened up and his eyesight was the best it had ever been.

The superspunk jokes would never get old even if Bruce punched him in the arm every time he made one.

Steve's blood was precious enough for people to go to war over it, Tony wasn't about to let the new data out.  He didn't want to live forever, he knew how that worked out badly in most situations, but he'd take it if it meant Steve wouldn't have to watch him die.  Tony, Steve and Bruce were the only people that knew about it.

In the sum of everything, it didn't matter. He would love Steve anyway. He might not be good enough for him, but he was going to make sure he kept trying until he got there.

He couldn't worry about the past or the future, he had to hold onto the _now_ with everything he had left.

  
_So paint your face up something elegant_  
 _And this town maybe a darker shade of red_  
 _Cause a long night means a fist fight_  
 _Against your pillow and my pearly whites_

She brushed her teeth. Showered for seven minutes and twenty three seconds. She plucked for two minutes, ten. She brushed, dried and curled her hair, the red color stark against the yellow wall in the mirror.

She put on jeans instead of black leather. Just as snug but more comfortable. She wasn't Black Widow today. She wasn't Natalia. She was Natasha and these were her friends, once.

They were helping her. They wanted to help her. It wasn't like before. This was real. She looked at the fingermarks bruised over her wrist, her pulsepoint. Bucky liked proof of life and she put her fingers over his marks and held her breath until she could feel it.

She put on a bra. She put on one of Maria's shirts she'd stolen out of Clint's haphazard luggage.

The dog tags were in a puddle of chain beside the decorative soap shaped like tiny Iron Man masks. James Buchanan Barnes. Not Yasha.

It was a reminder. A talisman. A promise.

The metal was cool against her throat and she breathed.

Clint was in the room when she stepped out of the bathroom with soundless steps. "What are you doing?"

He jumped slightly and she almost smiled. She had to earn the right to smile. She had work to do. "Hey, Nat. Have you seen my phone? Is that Maria's shirt?"

"I didn't pack. Clint. I'm sorry. I..."

"Bucky explained it to me. We all understand," Clint said.

"Even Steve?" she asked, her voice steady.

"Especially Steve," Clint replied. "We just want you back." His eyes fell on the tags and she saw his eyes dim.

"Bucky's. Not Yasha's. A tether to lead me back," Natasha said, raising her hand to tuck them into her shirt. "I need my team's help."

Clint smiled. "You got it. Hungry?"

"Do we have coffee?" Natasha asked.

Clint snorted. "Stark lives here, of course we have coffee."

"I have amends to make," Natasha said. "Escort me?"

He rolled his eyes but linked their elbows and matched her steps into the sunroom. Steve liked sunlight and Tony had ensured that he had as much as he wanted. The house was filled with windows.

Steve and Bucky stood up, like gentlemen when she walked in and Bruce and Tony gave her waves but didn't talk with their mouths full, so polite at least.

She walked up to Steve and met his eyes. "I'm sorry. I wasn't myself."

He put his hand on her face and held her gaze. "Welcome back." He kissed her forehead. "Welcome _home_."

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

  
_But if I’m never your hero_   
_I can never let you down_

  
"Where's Steve?  I haven't seen him all day," Bucky asked when Tony surfaced from a marathon of upgrades on the man's bionic arm.  
  
"Painting.  JARVIS the Third says he's on hour six.  He gets in a zone," Tony said absently.  
  
"Will you take me down there?  I need to check something with him," Bucky said.  It was a persistent memory but he couldn't place it in any of his lives.  He used Steve for fact-checker usually but the guy had started slipping away when he wasn't paying attention.  
  
Natasha was distracting.  She was much trickier to get a handle on than Natalia had been.  
  
"His stuff's pretty dark.  It might remind you of some things," Tony said.  
  
"I want to talk to Steve, not his paintings," Bucky said.  It was a lie and Tony knew it but the guy grabbed a handful of apples and led the way down a long hallway.  
  
"Does he do this a lot?"  
  
"He wanted time to work out his stuff, so I give him his time," Tony replied.  "He's better for it."  
  
Bucky thought he understood until he stepped into the room and saw Steve standing with blood up to his elbows and splattered across his chest.  
  
"Steve, what did you do?" Tony asked, like it was nothing.  
  
"The mop-bot came for me before I was done," Steve said, turning and smiling at Bucky.  A small robot with a dripping brush waved apologetically from its corner on a nest of newspapers.  
  
"I'll tweak it," Tony said, glaring at the robot who slumped with guilt.  
  
Steve waved him off and walked over.  
  
Bucky saw the painting in full when Steve moved beside him.  
  
He knew it.  The slanted rain pounding into the puddles of blood and oil in the street.  The crushed heads, hair and skull mixed into the mud.  The hunched man, head bowed in obedience, prayer, shame and shackled in barbed wire with Soviet puppeteers holding the strings.  
  
"Ice dreams," Tony said.  
  
"I don't want to talk about it," Steve said, wiping his hands futilely on a towel.  
  
"But that's - that happened to me - '76 in - " Bucky started.  
  
"No," Steve cut him off.  "It was a dream.  I'm going to wash up."  
  
Tony and Bucky watched him walk away.  
  
"He was in the ice 70 years.  These are his dreams, but they're our memories.  Getting them out is helping him get better so who are we to ask him to stop?" Tony asked.  
  
"He shouldn't know this.  He - I don't..."  
  
"He knows that isn't you.  It's like, all the things we try to hide, all the parts of us that are disgusting and wrong - he knows about them and he doesn't care.  He doesn't judge us for the sins of the past.  If Steve can bleed out my fear on a canvas and face it down, then I should be able to face it, too," Tony said.  "Clint says he's been carrying our baggage until we were strong enough to take it back."  
  
"I just can't believe...God.  This doesn't make any sense," Bucky said.  
  
"Does anything make sense anymore?" Tony asked, his eyes studying the joints in his arm with his fingers twitching to check something.  The guy's interest in his arm was seriously strange but he'd learned that Tony would rather focus on mechanics he could understand instead of real life emotions that he couldn't.  
  
Steve walked out, frowning at a trailing robot trying to tuck in his clean t-shirt.  "Tony, really, I thought you were giving these guys another room to clean."  
  
"I did, but they like you," Tony said absently.  "I had to come up for air and Bucky's lonely, you should hang out with him while I power nap upstairs.  I still have a lot to do to fix that mess," he motioned to Bucky's arm.  
  
A shrill beep made them all wince but Steve reached for his phone with an apologetic expression.  
  
"What the hell kind of ring tone is that?" Tony said, rubbing at his ear.  
  
"One I won't miss," Steve replied, raising it to his ear.  "Director Fury, hello."  
  
"Why is Fury calling him?" Bucky asked Tony.  
  
"We're all still available as necessary, free agents of a sort.  You know Cap won't leave anyone hanging," Tony said.  
  
"Are you sure?" Steve asked.  Bucky recognized the cogs turning behind his eyes as he calculated the plan for whatever Fury was telling him.  "Send me everything, I'm pretty sure Tony's got a jet around here somewhere."  
  
Tony nodded with an eyeroll.  "Are we assembling?"  
  
Steve shook his head and held up a hand.  
  
Bucky didn't like this.  He knew he was still too mind-fucked to be of any use but knowing Steve was 'retired' had been a load off his mind.  
  
"Barton, if he's willing, and the team we took to Richmond," Steve said to Fury.  
  
That caught Tony's full attention and he narrowed his eyes.  
  
"Yes, sir, I'll see you soon."  
  
"What the hell, Rogers, you're taking Barton before asking me?" Tony demanded.  
  
"You're too flashy for this op, Tony.  It's a quick in and out," Steve said.  
  
"Then why were you called in?"  
  
Steve's lips thinned.  "I always want in when they HYDRA's involved."  He didn't look at Bucky but held Tony's gaze steady.  "They'll spot you miles away and know we're coming.  It's a simple job, I don't want to make it complicated."  
  
Tony frowned but let it go.  "We'll talk about this later."  
  
"Come on, Bucky, might as well show you Tony's playroom," Steve said, leading him out of the room of hell and up the stairs.  
  
"It's not just mine," Tony mumbled.

 

  
_Drink down that Gin and Kerosene,_   
_And come spit on bridges with me,_   
_Just to keep us warm._   
_Light a match to leave me be._

  
"What's our play?" Clint asked, joining his friends in the communications room.  Tony was tapping on a console and Bucky and Steve were looking over a massive holographic land map.  
  
"Belize," Steve said.  
  
"Hot as fuck down there," Clint said.  
  
"What exactly are you looking for?  Why can't you just blow the place?" Bucky asked.  
  
"Because then we won't know what they're doing," Steve replied.  
  
Fury's face filled the big screen with his familiar disgruntled expression.  
  
"Aw, do you miss us, Fury?" Tony teased.  
  
"Seems like the gang's all here," Fury muttered.  "Captain, did you get the coordinates?"  
  
"What's the scoop, boss?" Clint asked.  
  
"We've got a lot of activity down there and sources tracked it back to HYDRA.  They're stockpiling chemicals and explosives and SHIELD has been asked to intervene.  We need to find out what they have, what they're making and shut them down," Fury said.  
  
"Seems pretty straightforward, why do you need Cap on this?"  
  
"I told you, Tony, I requested to be included on missions like this.  I'm burned out, but I'm not letting them go because I'm tired," Steve said.  
  
Bucky moved back beside Clint.  "You got his back?"  
  
"Always," Clint replied.  He winked at him.  "I've got better eyes than you, Barnes."  
  
"The team's rendezvousing with you in Dangriga.  You know the drill, get in, do as much recon as you can and then clear it out.  We'll have extraction teams waiting," Fury said.  
  
"Are we going to have eyes on this?" Tony asked.  
  
Fury flicked him an annoyed glare.  "Like you let Rogers go anywhere without eyes on him.  JARVIS can link you into the feed and we'll sync up the video for you."  
  
Tony shut up, surprised at the lack of argument.  
  
"Let's get in the air and we can go over the plan," Steve said.  
  
"Are you sure it's not a trap?" Bucky asked.  
  
"With HYDRA, it's almost always a trap," Clint replied.  "Jet's ready when you are, Cap."  
  
Steve walked over to Tony and murmured softly in his ear and kissed him.  Tony mumbled something and carefully pushed a communicator into his ear before tossing one to Clint.  
  
"Don't be assholes, come back intact," Tony said.  "Give me the word and I'll..."  
  
"You'll stay here and look after the place.  My turn to go to work," Steve said.  "Don't even think about pouting."  
  
"Just hurry back," Tony said, turning and leaving the room.  
  
Steve didn't seem upset, turning to Bucky now.  "Look after the troops, yeah?"  
  
"I'm backing your boyfriend up, buddy, but I'll be here when you get back," Bucky said.  
  
Steve nodded and turned to Clint.  "Let's fly."  
  
"Rock and roll, Cap," Clint said, following him out.

 

  
_Well would you do it again, again_   
_And count backwards from ten_   
_(Look I don't make those mistakes no more)_   
_Sometimes I swear I can see straight through you_

  
"Damn, there are guards everywhere," Bucky said, squinting at the screens spread across the wall of the comm room.  
  
"They're used to it," Natasha said from her spot beside Tony at the console.  
  
Bucky watched as one, two, three bodies fell, barely noticing the arrows until they were lodged through their eye sockets.  He saw a flash of Steve's blond hair slipping through the hole Barton had opened for him.  
  
More guards fell like dominoes as Clint cleared the perimeter.  " _Moving in two clicks, you need me inside?"_  
  
 _"Hold your position when you get there, I need eyes on the roof.  Harston's disabling the copters and might need more cover."_  
  
Tony clicked a button to switch to the cameras on Steve's costume.  
  
He expected Steve to be in full Captain America gear, but he was in SHIELD's black armored uniform with a star on his shoulder being his only identifying sign.  
  
A flood of HYDRA minions filled the lobby of the building and Bucky held his breath.  His men fired around him and Steve blocked bullets and kicked and spun and punched his way through the attackers.  
  
"He didn't used to fight like that," Bucky said, recognizing a lot of fighting styles he'd learned as The Winter Soldier, not as Bucky Barnes.  
  
"We trained him.  I trained him," Natasha said after a beat.  "He could hold his own, but he's capable of so much more."  
  
Steve took a flying leap, backflipped and landed behind the crowd of minions and started picking them off from the back, his shield redirecting the stray bullets headed his way to take out more of the minions.  
  
 _"Clear, let's get to the labs,_ " Steve said.  
  
" _Shit.  We got a problem, Cap_ ," Barton called.  
  
" _Call it._ "  
  
" _Twenty, no, thirty foot robot has just made the scene.  Looks like, hell, flamethrowers.  Reminds me of Panama._ "  
  
"Fuck, are we going down there?" Bucky asked.  
  
"Can't get there in time," Natasha said.  
  
Tony was clicking buttons faster than the screens could change.  
  
" _You got those new tech arrows?  Can you get the shot?_ "  
  
 _"Forgot about that, hell yes, hope Stark's tech comes through for us this time,_ " Barton said.  
  
Tony's fingers stilled.  "I don't know what he's talking about."  
  
A flurry of arrows filled the sky, pinging ineffectively off the metal monster but Bucky saw several of them stick tight.  
  
JARVIS the Third spoke.  "Evaluating the system now, downloading intel and uploading virus per protocol 'Shut Your Mouth Stark'."  
  
"Fucking Barton," Tony said, visibly relaxing.  He glanced back at Bucky with tired eyes.  Bucky had figured out that sleep was one of the few luxuries Tony didn't take for himself.  "There are transmitters on the arrows that can shut down computer systems."  
  
" _Down!  Everybody get fucking down_!" Steve's voice left no room for argument and the screens went dark as the agents dropped to the floor.  There was a flash of light, a thick 'ting', a thundering echo and then a boom of fire.  
  
" _Jesus H. Christ, Cap, warn us when you're going to do that,_ " a stranger said.  
  
" _I told you to get down._ "  
  
" _Sit-rep_ ," Barton called.  
  
" _Place is layered with bombs, watch for tripwires.  Upper level is a bust, too much fire, we're coming down.  Robot?_ "  
  
The robot's lights were flickering and his flame throwers were spitting out sparks and smoke.  " _Slowly powering down, just cross your fingers he doesn't have any friends._ "  
  
Hill's voice filtered in and Bucky wondered exactly how far Stark's surveillance actually went.  " _We've got three more bots headed your way, there's - Fuck, there are tunnels all over the place, they're rising like goddamn transformers."_  
  
" _Call it, Cap,_ " Barton said.  
  
" _Hill, how much trouble am I in if we burn the place out_?"  
  
" _Tell me what you need to get our guys out of there,_ " Hill replied.  " _It's your call._ "  
  
"Tony - " Bucky started.  Natasha motioned for him to come closer to the console and Bucky looked away from the screens down to the console.  
  
There were blue dots across the topographical hologram of Belize and 3D blueprints of the building.  Bucky picked out Steve and Clint's markers, red and gold flashes inside the building.  There were several hovering dots that he hoped were air support.  After a moment, a new set of schematics lit up as the tunnel maps trickled in.  
  
"Hill, you getting this?" Tony spoke.  
  
" _Routing it to the boys now_ ," Hill said.  
  
" _Shit, Cap, your guys have the best toys,_ " someone muttered.  
  
" _Jenk, take the L tunnel, Lou, Floyd, get J and E, flood them with gas and get the fuck out, don't throw the switch until you have one foot through the exit, you'll have seven seconds to get on the jet, Hill, bring in air support now, we'll be out in six.  Masks on and balls out, guys."_  
  
"Nice," Tony snorted, leaning back.  "Okay."  
  
"Having a moment, Tony?" Natasha asked.  
  
Tony tapped at a corner window with a steady line plotting a heartbeat.  "He's not worried.  I mean, he has a cool head but HYDRA makes him shaky.  Barton's got his back and Steve's not freaking out, so it's okay."  
  
 _"L tunnel smoked."_  
  
 _"J tunnel smoked."_  
  
 _"E's down, too."_  
  
 _"G's down,_ " Steve said.  
  
 _"Birds waiting on the grass, Robots are still out of range but they should go down when you destroy the server, let's blow this joint."_  
  
" _Ten seconds, mark,_ " Cap said and the dots on Tony's hologram scattered.  
  
"They flooded the tunnels with gas and there's a switch on the canisters they can remotely activate from a short range to incinerate everything.  The fire's hot enough to melt steel," Natasha said.  
  
The monitors flashed with blue fire as the triggers went off in unison, filling all the screens.  Tony's finger tapped on the heartbeat monitor, matching Steve's beats with focused intensity.  
  
" _Christ, I think it singed my eyebrows._ "  
  
" _Headcount_ ," Cap called.  Bucky let out a breath.  
  
" _All accounted for.  Did we get any intel?_ " Hill answered after a beat.  
  
" _Got Tony a robot,_ " Clint answered.  
  
 _"We got some hard drives and med charts.  We'll tally it up after we get back to the checkpoint."_  
  
"Where are you going to put a robot of that size on the island?" Bucky asked.  
  
"I've got a hanger in my main workshop back at the tower.  It's HYDRA tech, we keep it locked down tight," Tony replied.  
  
"The island's shielded to hell," Natasha said.  
  
"Steve doesn't want weapons out here," Tony replied.  "This is his 'zen place'," he added with finger quotes.  
  
"You mean there are no weapons here?" Natasha sat up, alarmed.  
  
"Don't get your panties in a twist, Nat.  Out of sight out of mind.  When you're off the watch list, you'll get the codes, and before you get your feelings hurt - JARVIS the Third controls the codes," Tony said.  
  
"You let a computer give out info like that?" Bucky asked.  
  
"JARVIS the Third was built specifically for Steve, it follows his protocols.  His loyalties and decisions are for Steve, and me as second - but taking care of Steve is his primary directive," Tony said.  
  
"What happened to JARVIS the Second?" Natasha asked after a moment.  
  
"He's Pepper's," Tony shrugged.  
  
" _I'm starving."_  
  
 _"I saw a waffle-maker in the kitchen."_  
  
 _"Fuck yes, I could eat all the waffles.  Anybody know how to make waffles?"_  
  
 _"Comm's still live, guys.  But Cap makes decent waffles,_ " Barton's voice comes over the speakers.

 

  
_I knew you when oh when will this sinking feeling_   
_Feel like "man that was ages ago"_

  
Natasha sat down beside Tony at the kitchen island, noting the glass of milk and the whole wheat bagel.  
  
"You're not cheating on the diet while he's away?" Natasha asked.  
  
"The fridge is empty," Tony replied.  
  
She took a deep breath.  "You make him happy."  
  
"I hope so.  He makes me happy, too.  Content," Tony replied.  "You really hurt him."  
  
"I know.  I wish I could say it was programming but it's so clear in my mind.  I wanted Yasha and Steve was the way to get there.  And when Yasha turned into Bucky, I sank back into Natalia.  Yasha had to go backwards to find the real person inside.  I had to go forward to remember who I am."  
  
Tony nodded, studying her.  "I believe you.  I can barely deal with the one personality I have, I can't imagine having more than one in here."  
  
She held her fingers flat against the counter.  Grounded.  "Do you think anyone will ever trust me again?"  
  
"Sure," Tony answered easily.  She knew him better than that.  "I mean, we're going to watch you closer, just to make sure and it won't get better overnight, but you know that it's the best plan of action.  You didn't hurt anyone, not permanently so what you did wasn't that bad in the bigger picture."  
  
She didn't flinch when he put his hand on her back.  "But upsetting Captain America is like kicking a sad puppy."  
  
"You caught him, though," Natasha said.  
  
"He stuck with me through my stuff, I didn't even know about The Winter Soldier until the night you cut him off.  He spent all that time helping me dig out of my drama and he had been dealing with Yasha and Bucky and you.  He thought you cared about him but then you chose Yasha over Bucky.  Finding out Barnes was alive gave him hope he'd lost when he lost him the first time.  You took that away from him, he fucking believed you with everything he had left and - shit, Nat, you have to know how that wrecked him."  
  
"That's why I had to do it.  I needed him out of the way so I could get Yasha.  It made sense, it was part of the plan," she said.  
  
"Months, almost a year, he watched you coax Yasha to the surface before he broke."  
  
"Plans take time," Natasha whispered.  "I watched Yasha fade into Bucky before I broke and I'd lost everything, too.  Clint, Steve, you, everyone.  I want to say I didn't do it, say that it wasn't me - but I remember it, it was me."  
  
"Bucky described it that way, too.  Steve calls it 'backseat driving', where you're strapped in the backseat of your own brain," Tony said, dipping the bagel in the milk and frowning.  
  
"I thought I was over it.  I thought I had beaten it," Natasha said.  
  
"Sometimes our ghosts catch us, but we've beaten them before, that's why they're ghosts.  We just have to remember that," Tony said.  
  
"There are snacks on the dock, that's where Bruce and Bucky are hiding," she said.  He gave her a bright smile and offered a hand up.

  
_Tony, don’t sweat it_   
_Keep your hands steady_   
_You were born on a dare but you were born ready_

  
"What's different this time?" Bruce asked.  Tony didn't understand the question but Natasha and Bucky were watching him, too.  How had he missed that?  
  
"You're shaking," Natasha said.  
  
"You said he was fine," Bucky said, softer.  
  
"He is, I just get like this sometimes.  I think I'd convinced myself that we were both done for a while.  Or at least we would go on jobs together when shit happened," Tony said.  
  
"Steve will never stop chasing HYDRA.  Not until he burns it all down," Natasha said.  
  
"I should be fighting beside him," Bucky muttered.  "We lost so much time."  
  
Tony stared at his trembling hands.  The panic attacks were less frequent but they were a part of his life.  But usually he was at least aware he was having one.  
  
Natasha moved across the dock and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly.  "Suck it up, Stark."  
  
He huffed out a laugh, but he caught a breath and it was enough.  
  
"I'm trying to take better care of my things," Tony whispered.  "I don't like it when I can't reach him.  I know it's irrational but my body doesn't care."  
  
"Breathe.  We have to remember to breathe," she replied.  
  
"Don't I get a hug?" Bucky called.  
  
"He doesn't really want a hug, he wants to grope you," Tony whispered.  
  
Natasha snorted and released him, searching his face before taking her seat beside Bucky.  She didn't hug him but she put her fingers on his wrist, on his pulse.  
  
"You're kind of done with the whole superhero gig, I guess," Bruce said.  
  
"Not really, I don't think superheroes can retire, I mean, it's never worked well for me.  I still have suits in all my homes and offices.  Cars and boats, you know," Tony said.  "I just want everyone to be at their best before we go full time again."  
  
"And you don't think Steve's at his best?" Bruce asked quietly.  
  
Tony looked at his hands.  "Are any of us?"  
  
They all jerked to attention when the shadows fell over them.  "JARVIS the Third says you're pouting," Steve said, smiling down at him.  
  
"JARVIS the Third was supposed to tell us when you got back," Tony replied.  He wasn't going to deny pouting.  Steve held out his hand and Tony grasped it, levering himself to his feet.  Steve chuckled softly and pulled him close.  
  
"You smell like Natasha," Steve said curiously.  
  
"We had to hug it out.  I maybe missed you a little more than I expected," Tony admitted between soft kisses.  Steve usually only let him get away with a little PDA before dropping the 'scold' frown but he let Tony get what he needed today  
  
"Let me do a sit-rep and we'll go inside, okay?" Steve murmured into his ear.  
  
Tony nodded and his hands were steady now.  Steve gave Bruce a one-armed hug and spoke to Natasha before leaning back on his heels as Bucky launched into a lecture.  Tony didn't listen, he was taking in Steve's solid form, only a few steps away.  He was a supersoldier, practically indestructible.  On the outside.  
  
He never wanted to see that dead, lost, stained, look in Steve's eyes.  Pepper had to leave him before she could be safe, before they could both believe she was safe.  
  
Steve could handle himself, he was probably the only partner he could have found that would never be a damsel in distress.  Tony didn't have to protect him.  
  
But somewhere along the way, the wires had twisted and Tony needed Steve.  He needed him to feel safe, to feel like more than a failure (sinner, martyr, prodigal).  Steve gave him hope that they mattered - that they were doing the best they could and it was enough.  Steve made him feel like enough.  
  
"Hey.  Siesta," Steve said, sliding his hand down his back to hook a thumb in his belt loop.  
  
"Don't tell him everything, I want to hear the details, too!" Bucky called after them.  Tony gave him the finger over his shoulder.  
  
"It wasn't bad enough for you to be upset, it was a hiccup and the mission was a success," Steve said.  
  
"I know, I saw.  This is me having a moment."  
  
"A moment," Steve repeated, his ice blue eyes laced with wary worry.  "What do you need?"  
  
Tony put his hands on his thick wrists.  "The pulse, the spies use the pulse."  
  
Steve pulled him close suddenly and pressed his ear against his chest.  "You're so weird."  
  
Tony laughed but didn't pull away from the steady thump against his ear.  "Are you seriously just figuring that out?"  
  
"Guess not.  Clint's helping the staff bring up the food for dinner and I'm going to need to eat sometime but let's go get our zen on before all that."  
  
"Does our zen include cuddles?" Tony asked after a beat.  
  
"I was leaning more toward blow jobs and a shower," Steve replied with a lazy grin.  
  
He was okay.  Tony would be okay, too.  But he was going to have to think about this attachment problem more than he'd expected.

  
_And I dare you to forget_   
_the marks you left_   
_across my neck_   
_from those nights when we were both_   
_found at our best_

  
"I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to make you worry."  Steve had seen Tony like this before, after the whole thing with the Mandarin that he'd taken on his own.  
  
Tony didn't contact him until after he'd had the surgery, when he was visiting with Bruce and Steve was in Africa breaking up a terrorist group they hadn't identified.  Steve would have helped him but The Avengers weren't made up of people that were good at asking for help, more giving it.  
  
Steve had come back to New York, battered and exhausted, so exhausted that his injuries weren't healing at superspeed like expected.  The 5 page email had told him most of the drama, typed in Tony's rapid fire stream of consciousness with only subtle hints at how much pain he was in behind the words.  Steve went to the Tower and spent most of the next few weeks hiding in Tony's basement.  Listening to Tony, listening to Pepper, commiserating with Bruce.  
  
Tony had a lot of bad days then.  Steve would fall asleep on the lab cot and wake up with Tony staring at his suits with full body shakes.  Pepper stayed until the nightmares got to be too much and Tony seemed more relieved than upset when she moved back to California.  
  
Steve slid into her spot without knowing it.  When Tony had a nightmare, Steve could wrap his arms around him and hold him until he stopped shaking.  He could protect himself when he lashed out in his sleep.  Steve could make him sleep.  He didn't realize it was love until the bottom dropped out of his life, too.  
  
He'd found a rhythm as Tony's self declared "BFF # 3" and he should have confided the discovery of The Winter Soldier and the mess that followed.  Maybe that would have made it easier for Steve to deal with Natasha's manipulation and Yasha's emergence.  
  
But Tony took BFF status seriously and when he would go back to the tower at night, dejected and lost, Tony would harass him until he earned a smile.  
  
He felt like a weight had been lifted when he finally confessed everything to Tony, gave him all the classified files and slept for three days while JARVIS blocked all SHIELD phone calls and attempts to reach him.  Tony pulled up the drawbridge and gave Steve a chance to breathe.  A chance to think.  
  
Slowly, together, they got better.  Tony had a sharp mouth, a dangerous wit; but he was soft and breakable under the armor.  He cared about his friends, his family, fiercely and Steve had been welcomed into that family.    Tony sparked Steve's passion in a way it had never been sparked before.  
  
He'd never wanted someone so much before.  Not Peggy, not Natasha, only Tony.  He was like a drug, like something Steve craved like an addiction.  After their first night together, Steve accepted that he didn't need to look any further.    
  
"I should have handled it better. I was fine in the comm room, during the mission but after - when I knew you were safe - I needed to see you. See for myself that you were okay," Tony said, languid and lazy against him.  
  
"I went on missions before I 'retired'," Steve said.  
  
"But this is your safe zone.  Our safe zone," Tony amended.  
  
"Who's being a mother hen now?" Steve smiled.  
  
"You finally got Bucky back, Natasha's back, the band's back together and then you're off chasing monsters on your own," Tony said. "This is your time.  Probably the only time we'll ever get. The bad guys, they're only going to get stronger and we've got to be ready for them.  We're all burned out but you - you've been Captain American for 70 years - you never got to be Steve Rogers. I want that for you.  For us."  
  
Steve didn't know what to say to that.  
  
"I like you like this - relaxed, content.  Not hypervigilant at attention, not Cap, but Steve," Tony said.  
  
"Is that even possible anymore?" Steve asked.  He hadn't been Steve since the serum.  
  
"I thought you wanted this place to write children's books, not paint ice dreams," Tony said.  "Tell me I shouldn't worry about that."  
  
Steve couldn't.  He couldn't tell him that Tony shouldn't worry when he was worried himself.  "I don't know why I have to do it.  But I think if I need to get it out. I don't want to think about what they mean, who they belong to..."  
  
"They're ours, your friends'.  Hell, I saw one of Rhodey's down there when the bots were storing them away and you've never met him in person!"  
  
Steve winced.  
  
"I don't mean to push, I'm really fucking trying not to push but I'm shaky and tired and when you're not painting scenes out of hell, you're out of the country chasing HYDRA.  It's not what I had in mind when you said you wanted to relax," Tony said.  
  
Steve closed his eyes and focused on Tony's fingers tracing his splayed hand.  "What should I do?  What's your call?"  
  
"Steve." Tony's face was pale in the lamplight.  
  
"I can't stop chasing HYDRA.  And the painting helps.  I don't know why, but it does. I told JARVIS the Third to incinerate them.  Is it a big deal?"  
  
"They're kind of a big deal, Steve.  They're not your dreams, they're our memories and that's...a big deal," Tony said.  "I'm worried about you and I don't want to be.  I'm not good at worrying."  
  
Steve closed his hand and laced their fingers together.  "I'm sorry.  I didn't know it would be like this.  Maybe I need a retirement do-over."  If he had to stop painting out his dreams, he wasn't sure what kind of outlet he could use to get them out of his head.  
  
Tony sighed unhappily.  "I'm not telling you to stop, I'm just..."  
  
"I'll figure it out," Steve said.  
  
"We'll figure it out.  I'm glad you're back."  
  
Steve hummed against his lips.  "I missed you, too."  
  
He'd find another way to get his peace, one that wouldn't rob Tony of his.

  
_This is me with the words_   
_on the tip of my tongue_   
_And my eye on the scope_   
_down the barrel of a gun_

  
"Jesus Christ - what the hell is that?" Bucky gasped when an other-worldly roar snapped him out of sleep.  
  
"Banner," Natasha said, eyes open but unafraid from the bed across the room.  
  
They were getting closer, but not enough to share a bed, not with Yasha so fresh and missing from the mix.  But she was starting to see Bucky instead of Yasha that was progress.  
  
"Do we have guns?  I haven't..." Bucky realized.  
  
"JARVIS the Third, where is Dr. Banner?" Natasha asked, sitting up and pulling on her (Clint's) pajama pants.  
  
"Dr. Banner is currently in the art studio, the two Sirs are on their way to intercept him.  No outside alarms have been triggered and the surveillance drones show no sign of intruders."  
  
Bucky pulled on a shirt and led the way downstairs to the studio where the door was half-closed.  It rocked with the Hulk's roar.  
  
"Let Steve work it out first.  Hulk listens to him," Natasha said, stopping Bucky outside the room.  Clint arrived, scrubbing at his eyes.  
  
"Bruce have a nightmare?" he asked.  
  
"So this really does happen a lot?" Bucky said.  
  
"Wait - Steve, don't...we'll turn on the pretty lights, Hulk, let's just relax..." Tony's voice drifted from the room.  
  
Bucky ignored Nat and Clint and stepped into the room.  Hulk was - huge - and holding several light fixtures in his hand.  The paintings were untouched around the guy (monster) so his problem must have been with the lights.  
  
Tony had a wary hand held up to keep Hulk settled.  Steve, the crazy asshole, was standing tall beside Hulk, unafraid.  Tony clicked some keys and the remaining lights in the room dimmed and then tinted blue, green then the purple of a legitimate black light.  
  
Bucky's attention shifted immediately as the paintings lit up with glowing images.  
  
"Pretty," Hulk grunted, sitting down in the middle of the room.  
  
"Holy fuck," Tony whispered.  
  
The disturbing images on the canvas were inscrutable behind the glowing visions of heroes.  Bucky turned to the paintings and saw himself standing with his metal arm, blue and white with a star on the arm as he rose from a splintered cage with his arms spread and his hands grasped by two different hands, the delicate fingers of a girl with a scar across her knuckles and the other hidden under red gloves.  
  
"I didn't paint this, I didn't do this," Steve said, leaving the Hulk and joining Tony and Bucky with pale eyes.  
  
"Who mixed the paint for you?  What kind of paint is this?" Tony asked.  
  
"The bots brought it to me," Steve replied.  "Could they do this?"  
  
Bucky stepped closer to the painting and put his fingers to the paint.  He could see the swirls and bold lines from Steve's brush and the glowing lines matched perfectly, swirled into the background image.  "I think you did it, Steve.  It matches up in places," he said.  
  
"JARVIS the Third was supposed to have them burned, he was going to have the whole place cleaned out.  I asked him tonight," Steve said after a beat.  Bucky raised an eyebrow at Tony.  
  
"Steve, that's not what I meant earlier," Tony said quietly.  
  
"Guys?  Shit," Clint said, stepping in with Natasha.  His eyes lit up at the glowing canvases.  
  
"Pretty," Hulk said.  "Wanted to show Doctor."  
  
"I didn't do this," Steve said again.  
  
"JARVIS the Third, can you explain any of this?  Run an analysis on the paint until I get samples," Tony called for the AI.  
  
"The paint was purchased from Steve's previous art supplier.  Bots 498 and 502 were in charge of filling his cans and it seems some of their specialized cleaning solution has been integrated into the mix and changed the chemical components in some of the colors," JARVIS the Third responded after a quick flash of red filled the room.  
  
"I didn't paint these," Steve whispered.  
  
"Hey, we'll run back JARVIS' surveillance and see what's what, don't freak out, Steve," Tony said, squeezing Steve's arm.  
  
Bucky walked over and bumped shoulders with him.  "I like these a lot better than the real ones.  This is better."  
  
Steve shuddered.  "I need to go upstairs.  I can't deal with this."  
  
"No, you have to deal with it," Bucky said, grabbing his arm.  "Why are you running?"  
  
"Because - I don't understand why this is happening, I don't - " Steve said, pulling his arm away and hauling ass up the stairs.  
  
"Fuck," Tony said.  
  
"He was going to burn them?" Natasha asked, tilting her head as she looked at the visage of herself rising from the ashes with orbs of light in her hands.  
  
"I don't know what's going on in his head," Tony said.  He looked exhausted, but he wasn't trembling and he didn't have the wild look in his eyes like he did earlier, before Steve got back.  Steve had that wild look now.  
  
"I'll talk to him," Bucky said.  
  
"No, I got it.  I started this conversation with him last night and I need to finish it," Tony replied.  
  
"We'll start a new conversation.  Come on, Stark, he won't lie to both of us.  Tag me in," Bucky said.  
  
"We'll get Bruce to bed when he's settled," Clint said.  
  
Tony led the way up the stairs but Bucky stopped him.  "What did you say to him?"  
  
"That I was worried.  That this place was supposed to be for him to rest, not paint himself unconscious or go on solo missions for shits and giggles.  Am I wrong?" Tony asked, daring him to argue.  
  
Bucky considered it.  "I don't know what he was like before I got my mind back, I know what he was like in the 40's, but..."  
  
"He wasn't like this.  God, I don't know what I mean," Tony sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face.  "He never said he dreamed in the ice.  I've known him five years, I know everyone that knows him and nobody knew he dreamed in the ice.  And the paintings...so yeah, I'm worried and we're all about the honesty..."  
  
"I can hear everything you're saying," Steve said from the top of the stairs.  
  
"And that's okay because you've heard it before," Tony said, recovering and taking the stairs two at a time.  
  
Bucky held his tongue.  This was unfamiliar territory.  Or was it?  
  
"What was that all about, Steve?" Tony asked.  
  
Steve was standing by the window, resolutely not looking at them.  
  
Bucky moved beside him and yanked him around and poked him in the chest with his metal finger.  "You will talk to me."  
  
"Fuck you," Steve said.  He flushed immediately, as if the words had fallen out accidentally.  
  
"You're really saying that to me?" Bucky asked.  "Steve."  He took his best friend's face in both hands, the metal against his skin driving home how different they both were but always (always) connected.  "Why are you so scared?"  
  
"Because I don't know what I'm doing - I don't know what's going on in my own head and if I fuck up now..."  
  
Bucky shook his head until Steve focused on him.  "You aren't fucking up, you're freaking out, there's a difference."  
  
Tony spoke from behind them.  "Bucky and Natasha have had tons of different people in their head and they broke through, you've just got Steve in there to sort out."  
  
"Your old man's right, Steve.  There's nothing wrong with you, there's nothing to be scared of.  It's you and me and another crew of misfits.  We all have flaws."  
  
"You're not Captain America here, you're Steve Rogers.  I swear we had this conversation already," Tony said.  "You're allowed to drop your guard."  
  
"I didn't think the paintings were a big deal, I didn't realize they were real until I did yours - " Steve said to Tony, breathless.  Bucky stepped back and bumped into Tony who was visibly fighting the urge to go to Steve.  
  
"And then there were more familiar faces, more paintings of nightmares and I remember them so clearly - like yours, I didn't realize it was yours," Steve said in a burst at Bucky.  "The way those men's brains and skull stuck in the joints of the metal arm, the taste of blood when it splashed in his mouth and the sound - the crunch and squish..."  
  
Bucky stepped back like he'd been punched (breathless) and Tony moved between them, giving Bucky an apologetic (wary) look.  
  
Steve knew.  Steve knew what he was, what he'd done.  Bucky knew he knew most of the stories but that description, that goddamn painting was too real.  He never wanted Steve to know that about him.  To feel that.  
  
"I don't know why I saw those things in the ice, I don't know why I dream about them now, I'm never myself..."  
  
"Steve, are you saying you still have these dreams?  Out of the ice?" Tony interrupted.  
  
Steve hesitated.  "If I paint them, I stop having the dreams."  
  
Bucky found his voice.  "Are you sure of that?"  
  
"Yeah," Steve said.  "Positive.  If I paint them, the dreams stop, but in trade, I find out who the dream was about.  Things I don't need to know, things that don't matter to me, but matter to them."  
  
Bucky heard him, but he knew those things mattered to Steve.  He knew things about Bucky that he had never meant to tell anyone.  
  
"I didn't know it was you until I was done, Bucky.  I swear," Steve said brokenly.  "I didn't even think he was a man, he felt like a robot, a machine.  He wasn't thinking about anything, he had a bayonet sticking out of his side and he didn't feel the pain and the instructions kept cycling through his head.  It wasn't you, Bucky.  Even if the painting has your face, if The Winter Soldier has your face, I *know* it wasn't you because I dreamed it.  It was a dream, it wasn't you."  
  
Steve turned to Tony before Bucky could process that.  "And you - I swear I didn't know - that man was so scared - he was choking on fear but determined to live - he was helpless and - "  
  
"Stop," Tony said, putting his hand on Steve's chest.  
  
"It wasn't you," Steve said.  
  
Bucky tapped his metal fingers absently on the counter, clinking loudly.  Steve and Tony were both watching him when he glanced up.  
  
"Are we boring you?" Tony asked.  
  
"I'm triaging the situation," Bucky replied.  "We can't figure this out tonight, it's too late and too early all at once.  You guys need to sleep, I never see you sleeping..."  
  
"Because you're not allowed in our room," Tony muttered.  
  
"You need to sleep off the caffeine and adrenaline," Bucky said to them in turn.  "Then tomorrow, we'll go over this when we're all not on the edge."  
  
"But Bruce..." Steve said after a beat.  
  
"Nat and Barton can handle it.  Tuck his ass in and read him a bedtime story, something, but you make sure he sleeps," Bucky ordered Tony.  
  
"He's not the boss of me," Steve muttered.  
  
Tony caught Bucky's eye and smirked at Steve.  "That sounds like a challenge to me."

  
_I started something I couldn't finish_   
_If we go down,_   
_we go down together_

  
"None of this makes any sense," Bruce said as he looked over JARVIS the Third's surveillance tapes.    
  
Clint agreed with him.  
  
It was a recurring scene, from the first few days after Steve had moved in up to the present.  Steve painting like a possessed man, only pausing when Tony would wander in and either make out with him or beg him to make lunch.  Tony would drag him out of the studio and the lights would go out and the paintings would light up.  
  
They already knew that part, but there was something else going on.  No one was altering the paintings, but the cleaning bots - hell, the gardening bot was even present, in the parade of robots that entered the studio after dark.  The bots liked the paintings.  They swirled around the room, stopping to scan the paintings with their cameras and beeping at each other.  
  
"I don't understand.  JARVIS the Third, do you understand the bots?" Clint asked.  
  
"I am in charge of their assignments and maintenance.  They are very fond of Steve's work.  The unique makeup of his paint is quite visible to us," JARVIS the Third replied.  "I will attempt to show you."  
  
Clint and Bruce watched the monitors dim as if they were losing power before new images appeared on the paintings.  Behind the glowing images, red dots of lines and numbers started to glow.  Bruce leaned close, taking off his glasses.  "What the hell."  
  
"What do they mean, JARVIS the Third?" Clint asked.  
  
"I do not know how to correllate it to human understanding," JARVIS the Third answered.  
  
"Try," Bruce said.  
  
The AI was quiet.  "I am consulting JARVIS."  
  
After a long moment, the original JARVIS spoke.  "I believe in human terms, it would be described as music."  
  
"How the hell did we get from ice dreams, to magic metal paint to robot music?" Bruce asked.  
  
"It seems harmless enough but it's not normal.  Do you think he's been possessed or something?" Clint countered.  
  
"I need to talk to Tony, see if he can make any sense out of this," Bruce said.  
  
"I think he's still locked down with Cap upstairs, Bucky said he's having a moment."  
  
Bruce nodded.  "Wondered when he was going to finally have his breakdown."  
  
"Hell, he's been having it since they found Barnes," Clint said.  "Some of the other agents had a suicide pool going."  
  
Bruce glared at him.  
  
"I got them reassigned," Clint said.  (Maria liked Steve.)  "But Steve's been in a bad place for a long time.  I thought he would take a turn for the better with Bucky and not Yasha hanging around."  
  
"I really hope he hasn't been infected by an alien lifeform that wants to unite the robots or something," Bruce said.  
  
"That sounds like something I would say."  
  
JARVIS the Third spoke up.  "I can assure you we have no use for human slaves."

  
_So wear me like a locket around your throat,_   
_I'll weigh you down,_   
_I'll watch you choke._   
_(You look so good in blue.)_

  
Steve made it to the bathroom, even managing to close the door before he let out the sob hiding in his throat.  He was having a hard enough time trying to breathe without the knot of panic breaking free.  
  
He dropped to his knees and covered his face with both hands, choking out tears as his stomach threatened to revolt.  
  
The dreams haunted him, itching behind his eyes until he let them out on the canvas.  It was supposed to bring him catharsis, getting rid of his nightmares but they were real memories of other people - his friends.  
  
What did it mean?  What was in his head?  What was wrong with him?  
  
He was losing his grip.  
  
He couldn't breathe.  
  
It was like drowning in the cold dark all over again, except this hurt more.  
  
"Finally," Tony whispered after a while, draping a soft blanket over his shoulders.  
  
Steve fisted the fabric in his fingers and tucked it around himself.  Something to hold on to.  Soft, not cold.  The blanket was clean and smelled like Tony.  
  
Home.  
  
"Doesn't make you weak.  Means you can still feel," Natasha' voice was soft in his ear and her thin arms wrapped around him from behind.  "You can let go."  
  
Tony's familiar rough hands cupped his chin and he met his gaze.  "I love you.  We all love you.  You didn't judge me when I broke to pieces.  Okay?"  
  
Steve nodded and Tony peeled his hands from the blanket and squeezed his fingers tightly.  "I can't..."  
  
"It's okay," Natasha whispered.  
  
And then he saw Bucky and Yasha and Tony and Peggy and Coulson and Hulk and Hawkeye and Erskine - too much...  
  
"Shh."  
  
He didn't know how long he sat there, failing to hold in the rush of emotions as he splintered apart.  He could smell Tony's fabric softener, his cologne, his shaving cream.  He could feel Natasha's deadly fingers massaging his shoulders, her hands rubbings circles into his back to be sure he could feel the pressure  
  
When he finally found his breath again, through the tears and the ice and the screams; he tried to pull in the shakes, the panic and tuck it away again.  
  
But he was raw.  Stripped out of his armor, out of his muscle, down to the bone.  A broken skeleton with nothing left.  
  
Tony's fingers pushed through his hair, his thumbs smoothing under his eyelids across his cheek.  "You're so tired.  Do you think you can sleep now?"  
  
He nodded and felt Natasha move away as Tony helped him get to his feet.  
  
"Thanks, 'Tasha," Steve managed when he could see through his wet lashes.  
  
"Sometimes we have to hit the bottom before we can find our way back to the surface.  Some of our pits are deeper than the rest.  We all need you, and it's okay if you need us, too."  She slipped out of the room but the bedsheets were turned down when Tony guided him out of the bathroom.  
  
"We don't have to talk about it.  Now is the time for sleeping, anyway," Tony said.  He helped Steve out of his shirt and jeans before climbing in beside him.  
  
"I'm much better at distracting people from their issues than facing them head on.  Sex, liquor, a few years of coke and pills, not gonna lie about it - I got really good at ignoring what was really wrong with me."  
  
"There's nothing wrong with you," Steve said.  Tony relaxed when he spoke, as if finally sure he was lucid.  
  
"You know that's not true," Tony smiled.  "I had to put a metal cage around my heart to remind me I had one and even then, I drowned it behind my vices.  Distractions.  I spent a lot of time hiding from the parts of life that mattered.  The point is, I don't want that for you.  So if you need to talk, I'll listen and if you need to hide, I'll hide you and if you need to just be quiet, then I'll try and be quiet with you."  
  
"One thing you'll never be is quiet, Tony," Steve smiled.  He pulled him close, kissed him and closed his eyes.  
  
He sank into warm, not cold when the sleep came.

  
_Time to get the seeds into the cold ground._   
_It takes a while to grow anything,_   
_Before it's coming to the end, yeah._

  
Clint was surprised when Maria walked through the back door following a frantic robot waving its mechanical limbs in distress.  She was carrying several bags of groceries and dressed in civvies.  He always liked those jeans on her.  Plus, her hair was down and a smile was playing on her lips as she watched the bot.  
  
"He wants you to give him the bags," Clint said, raising a spoonful of cereal to his mouth.  
  
"Oh," Maria said, lowering the bags so the bot could take them.  It made an annoyed beeping sound and carried the bags into the storage room.  
  
"Hi," Clint said.  
  
"Hi.  Officially, I'm here to check in on our SHIELD interests," she said after a beat.  
  
"Unofficially?"  
  
"I may have punched Agent Parker in the face," Maria replied.  
  
He raised an eyebrow.  She leaned back with a cocked hip.  "Did he deserve it?"  
  
"Hell yes," Maria replied evenly.  
  
Clint climbed off his stool and moved around the counter, leaning against it with his arms crossed.  
  
She knew this dance and he smirked when he saw her eyes scan the room for outside eyes before moving to him.  She had to come to him, he couldn't go to her, it was part of their agreement.  She pushed her hand into his hair and pulled him close, kissing him with the same fierceness that had earned her ranks.    
  
Permission given, he slid his hands down to her ass and kept her flush against him and explored her mouth.  
  
He didn't hear Bruce come into the kitchen until the man muttered groggily at the coffeemaker.  
  
Maria pulled away slowly.  
  
"Don't care," Bruce muttered, waving a hand blearily as he poured a mug of coffee and wandered out of the room.  
  
"How'd you get on the island?" Clint asked, sliding a hand in her back pocket and pulling her close again.  
  
"Caught the supply boat.  Australian JARVIS made me leave my service weapons at the dock but said I was on the list," Maria replied.  
  
"Huh.  Guess Tony does know everything," Clint said thoughtfully.  
  
JARVIS the Third spoke.  "JARVIS the Second gave Agent Hill clearance."  
  
"Pepper and I have brunch on Sundays when she's in New York," Maria said.  "She has a way of weaseling information better than the best interrogators."  
  
"Huh.  Want to see my room?" Clint asked.  
  
"Sure," Maria said, sliding a hand into his back pocket and matching his steps out of the kitchen.

  
_I am on the mend._   
_At least now I can say that I am trying._   
_And I hope you will forget things I still lack._

  
"Hour 17," Bucky said, watching Agent Hill out of the corner of his eye.  He couldn't figure out she was heren unless it was to take him back to SHIELD's lab.  
  
"They need the sleep," Natasha said, her eyes never leaving the TV screen where the cartoon prince and princess made gooey eyes at each other.  
  
"How did Hill even get on the island?" he muttered.  
  
"She's the reason we got out of SHIELD.  She vouched for us.  I think she's sleeping with Clint," she added evenly.  
  
Bucky didn't know any of that.  "Really?"  
  
Natasha shrugged.  "Not my business.  She doesn't trust us, but she trusts him.  Maybe Cap, too.  I trust Clint's judgement."  
  
"Huh," Bucky said thoughtfully.  Maybe he'd gotten the wrong read off the woman.  
  
He relaxed and watched Maria with Clint across the room to see if he could see what Natasha did.  They were sitting on the floor in front of the other TV playing some kind of video game in space.  (For someone that never watched TV, Tony had installed at least 2 TVs in every room.)  
  
"We're fucking and you can shut your face about it," Maria said without looking away from the TV.  
  
Natasha laughed under her breath at Bucky's startled expression.  
  
Clint's character went down in a flood of bullets as he dropped his controller.  "Uh, Maria?"  
  
"He's staring at me, hurry up and respawn so we can finish this level," Maria said, slaughtering aliens with focused intensity.  
  
Clint picked up his controller, but he slid closer to her before he tagged back into the game.  
  
One of the house-bots entered with two cups of coffee and Steve following behind with impressive beard stubble.  Tony was already clutching one cup of coffee and watching the robot with intent.  
  
"Have a nice nap?" Bucky asked, scooching over on the massive couch closer to Natasha so Steve and Tony could sit.  
  
"No dreams," Steve replied, clasping his hand in greeting.  "Sorry about yesterday."  
  
"Kid, you never have to apologize to me for being a nutcase, I've always known that," Bucky smiled.  
  
Tony reached for the coffee and the robot beeped at him and nudged its arm at Steve.  Steve accepted the mug and the robot allowed Tony to take the other one with a small hiss.  
  
"I don't understand why my own bots don't like me," Tony muttered.  
  
"They didn't make us coffee," Bucky said.  
  
"The barrels, shoot the oxygen tanks!" Maria yelled suddenly.  
  
"That'll blow us up, too!" Clint replied.  
  
"Enable the spacewalk gear -" Maria said, crouching on her knees.  
  
"Fuck yeah," Clint said as their characters clothes changed onscreen.  
  
"Leroy Jenkins, motherfucker," Maria said before the screen exploded in flames.  
  
"Is that level six?" Tony asked after a long moment.  
  
"Level nine, baby," Clint grinned.  "Oh, you're awake."  
  
"Level nine?" Tony replied, impressed.  
  
"Agent Hill, when did you get here?  Is there an emergency?" Steve asked.  
  
"She punched Agent Parker in the face and got benched," Clint answered.  
  
"Oh.  Is he the hairy guy?" Steve asked.  
  
"He needs to keep his paws to himself," Maria said.  
  
"You didn't mention that part," Clint said, his eyes narrowing.  
  
"Oh.  Oh.  Carry on, then," Tony said, smirking.  
  
Maria rolled her eyes.  "Sitrep?"  
  
Steve glanced around the room, his eyes clear.  "Better.  Things are better."  
  
Bucky believed him.

  
_Is it in you now,_   
_To watch the things you gave your life to broken?_   
_And stoop and build them up with worn out tools._

  
"It has to be some kind of magic," Steve said as Tony opened up the holograms around the room with the three layers of the paintings on top of each other.  It was a group brainstorm but everyone studied the images in their own way.  Maria immediately separated the blocks so she could see them stacked side by side.  Clint closed down the first layer, the memory one, and focused on the two underneath.  Natasha only looked at the top layer.  
  
The bots started beeping happily behind them and Steve glared at Tony.  "I said I wanted horses or a dog and you said robots would be less trouble."  
  
"We've got Asgardian warding spells all over this place, it shouldn't be magic," Tony said.  
  
"It's not magic," Maria said.  
  
"Have you seen this before?" Bruce asked, studying the numbers to try and make sense of it.  
  
"Superspunk," Maria said.  
  
Tony almost choked on his tongue and Steve had to look away to keep from laughing at him.  
  
"What does that have to do with anything?" Bruce asked.  "How do you even know about that?"  
  
"We pay attention," she replied.  "But we didn't think it would go both ways.  Tony had the arc reactor implanted in his body for an extended period of time.  It didn't make a difference in our first samples, but over the years, his DNA started to show slight changes."  She met Tony's eyes, unapologetic.  "No one else has been able to match your tech."  
  
"Are you saying he's part cyborg?  Because I think that's my line," Bucky said.  
  
"I should also probably mention this intel is classified so high that only four people have access to it, none of which are on the High Council," Maria said.  
  
"You've been studying my DNA?" Tony asked.  
  
"Fury knows Xavier.  Some of our agents are mutants and Fury makes sure they have an exit if they need it," Maria said.  "But that's not the point."  
  
"You're saying Tony's DNA was altered by extended exposure to the arc reactor?" Bruce asked.  
  
"The vibranium core, we think.  We haven't shown any scientists the data as a whole, only anonymous bits and pieces," Maria said.  "Fury disapproves of human testing and he has a soft spot for Stark.  This kind of research is apocalypse in a bottle."  
  
Tony shook off the thought.  "Don't you think that's something you should have told me before?  It could have hurt Pepper or any of the people..."  
  
"It takes prolonged exposure and you rarely had the same partner twice in your slutty days, and you use the Catholic kind of birth control.  And Pepper doesn't swallow," Maria said with a straight face.  
  
"Could it be nanites?" Natasha asked after a long silence.  Steve still hadn't stopped blushing.  
  
"If they are, they're carbon-based," Maria replied.  "It could explain how Steve could pick up robot radio."  
  
"Superspunk," Tony said blankly.  
  
"That's why you don't wear your glasses anymore," Clint said to Tony.  
  
"Classified," Maria said.  
  
"I want the research," Tony said.  
  
Maria's eyes didn't move to Clint but Steve saw him stiffen.  "It's all on paper.  None of it touches a computer, or a camera," she said.  "It's only cleared for the island.  SHIELD can't find this place on its satellites and he thinks it's time for you to see it."  
  
"Why now?" Tony asked.  
  
Maria shrugged.  "He thinks you're finally stable enough to accept it.  And he hasn't scared you off yet.  This doesn't explain the ice dream aspect."  
  
"So we're going back to magic, yes?" Bucky said.  
  
"Thor's due for a visit to SHIELD next weekend, I can send him your way," Maria said.  "All in all, none of this seems like cause for worry.  "Your paintings are all of the past, nothing for us to make note of.  The composition of the paint that enables three different layers is the most intriguing part of it.  We could use that."  
  
"We'll discuss it when you give me the DNA research," Tony said.  
  
Steve couldn't explain why Maria's flippant dismissal of the base paintings lifted such a weight from him.  They were the past.  
  
The shared past of a shared future.  Hope from the ashes.  
  
"You're like a robot Beethoven," Tony said, sliding his arm around Steve's waist and nodded his chin at the twirling bots in the corner under the holograms of the unintelligible number code.  
  
"More like the stepdad to a bunch of robot rugrats," Clint said.  
  
"Why am I the mom?" Tony protested.

  
_It's hard to be the better man_   
_When you forget you're trying_

  
Steve sat down beside Bucky on the docks, watching Natasha and Maria thoroughly massacre Clint and Tony on the jet skis.  
  
"You seem a lot better today," Bucky said.  
  
"Guess so.  I broke down like a little girl," Steve admitted, avoiding his gaze.  
  
"Happens to the best of us.  Figure anything out?  Other than gross superspunk theories?"  
  
"Shut up," Steve hissed, thumping him.  
  
"You have to admit, the whole idea is kind of weird."  
  
"You all know entirely too much about my sexual habits," Steve glared.  
  
Bucky smirked.  "Used to be the other way around, right?"  
  
Steve snorted and turned toward the lake.  "How are you doing?  Can I ask you that?"  
  
"I'm okay.  Yasha's gone, he's not inside anymore.  It's exciting almost, not having to follow blind orders.  I can stay in bed all day, or play video games, shoot targets, not people.  And your boyfriend makes nice metal arms because it doesn't hurt anymore," Bucky said.  "I'm okay."  He hesitated.  "I wouldn't mind spending a little more time with my best friend, though."  
  
"All you have to do is ask.  Hell, Buck, you don't even have to ask," Steve replied.  
  
"I know.  You were kind of stuck in your own head the past few days," Bucky said.  
  
"It's like, out here, I don't have any enemies to chase or vendettas to settle.  No fights.  No battle.  Just me and my thoughts," Steve said.  
  
"Dreams," Bucky said.  
  
"Tony said once I opened the door, they all rushed out.  I never understood how obsessed he would get in his lab, staying up for days, but I did the same thing once I started painting," Steve said.  
  
"They're amazing.  Scary as all get-out, but beautiful.  If you gotta have a vice, I'd say yours is safe enough," Bucky said.  
  
"I still don't know what they mean," Steve said.  
  
"Who cares?" Bucky shrugged.  "If we didn't know about them, no one would even worry about it.  You do what you have to do to get steady.  We'll be here, enjoying your fancy island, when you're ready to take up your shield again."  
  
"You think you'll be ready to watch my back by then?" Steve asked.  
  
"I don't need any prep time for that job," Bucky replied.  He reached over and clasped his metal hand with Steve's.  
  
"I won't lose my grip on you again, Stevie."

**Author's Note:**

> All lyric breaks belong to musicians/bands:
> 
> Tom Waits  
> Fall Out Boy  
> Kid Cudi  
> Patrick Stump  
> Taking Back Sunday  
> Brand New


End file.
